i always have a moment for you and Kisla <3

Kisla Tainn was like a ghost in the territory, drifting here and there, and Maksim could never quite catch her. On the one hand, it could mean that her ankle was healing well but, on the other, it meant she may not have any desire to socialise. Regardless, the agouti male did his best to find her in his lands, urged on by the idea that he needed to see if she was doing well. She was his responsibility as well as his … friend? Besides, he had offered his shoulder to her—losing one's family was never pleasant. His ears were pricked in an attempt to hear footfalls, that distinct crunch of compacting snow and his nose quivered now and then as he inhaled, following the tawny wolf's scent. The smells of Cut Rock River clung to her pelt now, though he could still catch whiffs of oak and what he presumed to be her family's scent. She'd been with them her whole life so of course it made sense that it lingered; it had rooted itself deep within her thick winter coat.

Through the drifting snowflakes, he spied her. He offered a bark in her direction, picking up the pace so that he may draw up closer to her. Quickly closing the distance between them, Maksim offered her a small smile and a gentle nudge. “Adjusting well?” His inquiry was gentle in comparison to the whipping winter winds, his plush fur ruffled by its relentless battering of the terrain. With a quick shake to remove the powdered snow from his coat, the agouti leader grunted. This blasted weather was starting to prove itself to be irritating. “Perhaps we should find somewhere sheltered to talk …?”

blargh im a dumbie for leaving this so long!

It was strange; Maksim never really took the time to pause and wonder if he was happy. Most of his time was spent thinking about the happiness of those under his command—his family. This winter was undoubtedly the harshest any of them had encountered and he was trying his hardest to keep them well fed and healthy. Unfortunately, it was difficult to do the latter considering almost all prey animals had disappeared, leaving the Lore due to the bitter wind and cold. Famine had settled in swiftly and even now the agouti giant felt the empty pang in his stomach. Resorting to scavenging to survive wouldn't have been a difficult transition if it weren't for the fact there was hardly anything to pick the bones of. The weather certainly wasn't blessing him these days. If anything, it probably wanted him dead. Floods and snow storms … what next? Earthquakes? Despite it all, the Baranski was happy with where he was now, the leader of a pack—his pack—but he couldn't quite shake the feeling something was missing. What that something was, however, still had him perplexed.

A vicious wind battered the Cut Rock wolves, a williwaw of biting cold and howling whistles. It ran its tendril-like fingers through his coat, the ghostly touch embracing him, engulfing him. A sharp exhale slipped from his nose at the nipping bitterness, mimicking a puff of smoke from a fierce dragon, coiling in the wild, vicious wind. Kisla offered him quiet nod, wandering up beside the brute and gently brushing her shoulder against his. Maksim briefly pressed his nose to the Tainn woman's temple, a silent reassurance and physical greeting; she'd been through a lot, it seemed. Leaving her birth place to migrate over Serpent's Pass with her family, being separated from them and getting injured in the process. The agouti leader was unaware of her previous troubles, unaware of the villains in her life thus far. He only knew of the tip of the iceberg—just barely.

He led her, wordlessly, to a rather large collection of rock slabs nearby. This territory was a stroke of lucky, really. There was shelter everywhere, taking the form of towering trees and large boulder. “Here,” he uttered, lowering himself down into a sit beneath the overhang. The winds were not nearly as strong now, though it was a complete escape. It would have to do, though. Maksim waited for her to take her place before he spoke up. “I apologise for not seeking you out sooner. I thought you might want to talk at a later date but, well, the days just seem to be falling away.”

Kisla settled near Maksim, her side pressed against the cold wall of their current shelter. The River leader could only hope that this was adequate enough protection from the bitter wind for her. If he and his pack mates weren't careful this season then there might be potentially fatal consequences—every Cut Rock wolf would need to keep their wits about them and a strong head on their shoulders. There was no margin for error; it was live or die. That was an oddly frightening prospect to think about. You had a chance to fight back if another wolf was trying to kill you, but there was very little you could do to combat blistering winds and temperatures that were far below freezing if it caught you at your weakest point.

Her words caused a blink of surprise from the agouti leader, causing him to raise his brow and flick his tail. “Nonsense.” He offered her a small smile, something Maksim found did not grace his features often recently. “Of course I worry about you,” he divulged. As far as the Baranski was concerned, she was part of the pack, temporary or not. Then again, perhaps he worried more than he needed to—Kisla was a fine woman. She was somewhat introverted, yes, but she was hardly shy; it seemed the Tainn merely preferred to be in her own company. Maksim found that he couldn't really blame her. She was far from the place she considered home, though part of him found himself hoping that, some day, she might come to view Cut Rock River as home. He knew it was unlikely, though—home is where the heart is, after all, and hers seemed to be with her family.

He watched her silently for a brief moment, nodding at her last question. “Well, I wanted to firstly ask about your leg.” She seemed to be walking well enough, though the cold was probably lengthening the healing period by quite a bit—deep snow didn't really offer a friendly environment, especially when coupled with stiff muscles. “And secondly, I wanted to discuss whether or not you would be comfortable with me escorting you to your family when the snows melt.” The words tasted wrong in his mouth, as if the prospect of Kisla leaving was sour.

Heh! Mak threw up his feelings, too.
Against the Grain by City & Colour.

The day they had bumped into one another in Red Fern Forest had certainly been interesting. Both wolves were riddled with their own worries and problems and, despite the shortness of their conversation, Maksim found himself intrigued with Kisla Tainn of Oak Tree Bend. Each time he found himself in her company, that intrigue grew to be larger and his warmness towards her became a little stronger. She was stubborn and perhaps a little stand-offish, though perhaps this was due to her life not being as smooth as his own; a defence she had built up during her adolescent years. Whatever the case, Kisla was different and Maksim was fascinated.

Her gentle smile, something he had not seen before, made his own dark lips curve upward. He had seen a sly smirk from the tawny woman the first time they had met but, for some reason, this was different; this one was soft.

It was understandable that the snow and cold would make the healing of her ankle unnecessarily long. It made the joints stiff, which was often why a lot of elderly wolves passed away during these winter season. Briefly, the agouti male wondered if there was some of herb or flora that would aid in its healing. And then it struck him in the face like a slap; Lachesis, their medic in training. Why on Earth had Maksim not suggested she visit him sooner? Was he an idiot? His lips formed a thin, black line briefly before he spoke surprisingly softly. “Our healer,” he began, hoping that Kisla would consider visiting the spider-legged yearling, “may have something to aid in the healing process—to battle the cold.” The River leader looked to her ankle, reptilian gaze flicking to her face briefly. “I feel a fool for not suggesting it sooner.” Shaking his head briefly, Maksim straightened out. This wasn't about him right now—he could feel like an idiot later—so there was no need to dwell on his idiocy.

Kisla seemed stunned, momentarily, by the Baranski's proposition. Her words dripped from her tongue like honey and Maksim remained quiet as she spoke. He wasn't quite sure how to take her first statement. Did she mean taking her in as a whole? Or his idea of escorting her back to the Oak wolves? What did it matter in the end—it seemed to touch her, and that was all that the River leader could have hoped for. He simply wanted her to feel cared for, wanted … loved? He couldn't think of the word. “They're your family, Kisla. They will forgive you. You cannot be held to blame for what happened, after all—no wolf could have predicted this winter.” The mountain's current, impassable state included. “And, god forbid, if they do not … well, you can come back-” home? “-with me; back here.” As far as Maksim was concerned, she would be always welcomed in Cut Rock River.